


a change of heart

by hqmarklee



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: M/M, yusol, yuwin if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-30 22:58:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10886667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hqmarklee/pseuds/hqmarklee
Summary: He sees the devastation on Yuta's beautiful face, the full weight of the havoc he's caused leaving a bitter taste on his tongue.





	1. Chapter 1

Hansol sits with his head in his hands and wonders if he's making a mistake, but the relief he feels tells him otherwise. He glances at Yuta beside him, who still hasn't moved in the last five minutes. He counts to sixty, and then sixty more, and when he can't stand the silence anymore, he speaks.

"Yuta, say something will you?" he finally asks.

Yuta just goes on sitting there, mutely staring at his palms turned upwards on his lap.

"Okay, listen, if you're not gonna say anything, then I guess that's it. Thanks for hearing me out. I'm leaving."

He makes to stand up but Yuta clamps a hand around his wrist and forces him to sit back down. He takes a deep breath as if bracing himself and turns to face Hansol. The lost expression on his face tugs at Hansol's chest painfully, but he ignores it

"How long has this been going on? How long have you … felt this way?" Yuta asks, eyes searching the other boy's face.

Hansol chooses his words carefully. "A while. I was hoping it was just temporary, a passing phase. It took me some time to realize it wasn't gonna go away anytime soon."

"Then how come I'm only hearing about this now? How come you never told me?" Yuta's voice is growing louder.

"I was looking for a good timing, there was never a right —"  
"Bullshit! That's a load of crap, Hansol! There are two people in this relationship." Yuta is angry now.

Hansol sighs. He knows the Japanese boy is right. Guilt courses through him, hot and heavy. "I know. I should've told you. I'm sorry," he offers meekly. He knows it's a pathetic excuse, but what else was there to say?

"Hansol, just … just tell me if there's anything I can do, anything at all." Yuta runs a hand through his hair and grips the other boy's hand. "I swear we can work this out together, let's try harder …" a hint of hysterics creep into his voice as he tightens his hold around his wrist, but Hansol stands up and starts reaching for his coat.

"I'm sorry Yuta. This isn't about you anymore. There's nothing you can do." He turns a litte unsteadily, slings his backpack across his shoulder and walks towards the door. Halfway across the room, he hears Yuta follow him. Just before he reaches the hall, he feels Yuta take a hold of his elbow but he doesn't turn around.

"Come on Hansol, please stay, we always talk these things through."  
"I'm sorry but I have to go." He takes a step forward but Yuta only grabs him by the arm, harder this time.  
"No. No, no, stay —"  
"We're not happy anymore Yuta, we're just stuck here!"  
"That is not true please—" Hansol twists his arm away but Yuta is not letting go. His grip turns painful, fingers digging into skin hard enough it almost draws blood.  
"Let go of me! I mean it, Yuta! I said let go!" He sees the the desperation flashing across Yuta's face as he tries to put his arms around his shoulder, and before he realizes what he's doing , Hansol is pushing him away with his free hand in a burst of strength he never knew he was capable of. Yuta stumbles backward and falls with a wrenching cry of pain and suddenly, they are both crying freely.

It is loud and uninhibited, and they don't know who it's coming from, probably from both of them. Their voices mingle, two young men slumped in the hallway of this apartment where they started out together with so much hope all those years ago. Hansol kneels in front of Yuta, clutching his knees and muttering 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" over and over again, tears falling in rivulets down his face, while the Japanese boy covers his face with his hands, rocking back and forth from the strength of his emotions, great sobs of pure anguish mixed with gulps of air.

"Please, Hansol, please, please , please just be in love with me again." his voice is raw with desperation and it ricochets around the narrow hallway.

"I can't, Yuta. I can't, okay? God knows I was in love with you once, but I'm all out. I have nothing left to give you anymore." Hansol is whispering now, out of breath and just as emotionally spent as Yuta.

"I can't stand this. It hurts so much. It hurts so much."  
"I know it does."

Some time later, they are both sitting with their backs against the wall, a tentative peace between them. They are both relatively calmer, and Yuta is the one to break the silence this time. Keeping his red, swollen face averted, he nods towards the door. "You should probably go."

They both stand up, avoiding each other's eyes, and Hansol bends to pick up his things from where they've fallen, laying sadly on the carpet like driftwood washed up ashore.

"Hansol? You know how to reach me. In case you change your mind … I'll be here—" he hears the catch in Yuta's breath, and without turning around he knows he's crying once more. With this knowledge, tears prick behind his own eyes again, the way it always does when Yuta cries. It is an automatic reaction, ingrained in all the years he has loved this boy.

_They are sitting on a couch, watching the animated movie. On screen, the girl chases after the guy who does not remember her anymore, tears streaming down her face as she looks up at him. Yuta is sobbing openly now, hands around a pillow. "Why are you crying?" Hansol asks. "I thought they were never gonna meet again. And you? Why are you crying?" "Same reason." he lies. He doesn't care about the film, but seeing Yuta crying his heart out is strangely painful._

Silently praying for one last ounce of strength to do this, very quickly he turns and pulls Yuta to him. The other boy automatically returns the embrace, more from instinct than a conscious reaction, hands resuming their place in the small of his back where they've belonged for years. He holds the boy as close as he can, cheeks warm and wet against his own, and speaks quietly in his ear.  
"Yuta", he hears the tremor in his own voice and takes a steadying breath to collect himself before speaking again. "Yuta, I love you so much. I probably always will. Nothing will change that." He pulls back and looks into the other's eyes. "I'm just not inlove with you anymore. I'm sorry." He sees the devastation on Yuta's beautiful face, the full weight of the havoc he's caused leaving a bitter taste on his tongue.

Before he can change his mind, he leaves, the door softly closing behind him. For a split second, Hansol has a fleeting but perfectly clear memory of himself splayed in a practice room floor, almost four years ago, laughing up at an animated Yuta who is regaling him with stories of his boyhood in Osaka, absent mindedly playing with the hem of his shirt. A memory of a time when he was happy, and things were easy. Safe.

For the hundredth time that day, he wonders if he's really throwing all of this away, but through the numbness there is a seed of hope in his heart, and his body sings with the freedom from this thing that's been weighing him down for months. He feels at peace, and he knows he made the right choice.

Feet slapping softly against the pavement, he rounds the street corner and disappears from sight.


	2. Epilogue

Hansol stands leaning against the wall, looking every bit like the intovert he is, waiting for the crowd to subside. The sea of moviegoers is thicker than usual for a Wednesday night, courtesy of the new American superhero flick that everyone keeps talking about these days.

He taps his foot absent mindedly, an annoying habit he can't seem to get rid of, and scans the titles of the films showing this week when his gaze is caught by a familiar face.

Even now, Nakamoto Yuta is still capable of parting a crowd without even trying, nonchalant with an unconscious swagger to his walk.

Large eyes framed by deep laughter lines, set in a perfectly symmetrical face that always makes strangers stop and stare, under a mop of expensively colored, purposefully disheveled hair, he draws eyes like a beacon. He always had **it**. No one talked about what **it** was, but everyone seemed to know; boyish charm, a smug self confidence brought by years of good looks, energy and health, the world at the tip of his tongue.

Hansol wonders why he didn't spot him sooner. He wasn't surprised to see how much he's changed in the fifteen months since they had last seen each other.

Words had been said, painful ones, and Yuta had looked broken beyond repair, gaunt and tired. Sadness engraved in the lines of his face like the aftermath of a hurricane.

Hansol feels a pull humming from inside him, and without thinking he has leaned forward, away from the wall, as if making to cover the distance between them. He catches himself just in time. Yuta remains oblivious, choosing snacks from the counter, brows furrowed in concentration.

Twenty meters away, maybe less.

What would Hansol say? Was there even anything left to say? Does it matter?

_Is there still space for me in your life?_

He just wants to talk, the old memory of Yuta looking up at him rising unbidden, the familiar feeling of needing to negate the space between their bodies.

_Are you happy ... without me? If I asked you to take me back, would you?_

He wants to ask if Yuta is okay. If he is happy. And if Yuta were to ask him the same question? What would he say?

After the break up, he had auditioned for the dance group he had always wanted to join but never found time to. He got in and quickly climbed their ranks, meeting new people, performing in so many places. Seoul had never held so much promise. In less than a year his phone quickly filled up with phone numbers of new friends, acquaintances, strangers from clubs, agents. All of them praising him for his new found success. He was free, yes, and he basked in the glow of satisfaction from all he had achieved.

And yet, looking back, the only person he had ever wanted to share his success with was standing in this room, twenty meters away.

With a start, he realizes it is true.

Hundreds of people he could have chosen from, and yet he is hit with profound realization that none of them are Yuta. With renewed hope, he starts to walk towards the Japanese boy with every intention of telling him all of this, but something makes him stop in his tracks.

A tall, thin boy with jet black hair, soulful doe eyes and a beautiful mouth holding a large box of popcorn bends as Yuta moves to whisper something in his ear. The boy is petite, and smiles serenely as he listens. They both laugh, Yuta loud and glowing like the sun, the other boy softer and with less animation.

From this distance he can see Yuta's firecracker smile and wild gesticulations, and he can tell he's excited. They are standing in line outside cinema four, both grinning at each other. They take photos of their tickets, and then individual snapshots in front of the posters, now leaning in to take a selfie together as Yuta holds the phone from an angle.

As Hansol watches the display, a memory, unbidden but vivid, of him and Yuta in his room in Busan, resurfaces.

_Twilight filtering through thin curtains, a low single bed, Yuta tugging the covers away to take his photo. Hansol, struggling to cover his naked form, laughing helplessly._

He blinks the memory away, and moves back to reclaim his spot by the wall opposite the concession stand. He looks up at the ceiling, embarrassed at himself and his previous thoughts, chuckling mutely to himself.

For a moment, he had a delusion of them reuniting, rescuing each other. The truth is displayed in front of him: Yuta is fine. Yuta had probably been fine for months. He didn't need rescuing. Maybe neither of them needed rescuing at all.

He's still thinking about all this when he looks up and meets familiar warm eyes. The other boy is standing with his back to them, examining a Chinese movie poster. Yuta continues to stare,and Hansol waits for time to stop, for his heart to start pounding against his chest, but nothing comes.

After what feels like million years, Yuta finally smiles, and Hansol winks.

Yuta's eyes crinkle in silent laughter and for a moment there might have been something more, but the queue hitches forward and he and his companion move to take their place.

Yuta waves goodbye, and ducks inside after the other boy.

And then it is over.

Hansol waves back a beat too late, and after a second, puts down his hand.

He resumes his silent debate over which film to watch, but in the end he decides to let his date choose. He looks at his watch and waits.

With nothing more than a wink and a half hearted wave, he had said goodbye to someone he really cared about, the first boy he had ever loved.

But the night was young and full of promise, and outside, the streets of Seoul twinkled in the evening light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yusol was one of my first ships in NCT and I love them so much, but it's been dead for a while and this is my way of saying goodbye. Whatever Hansol chooses for his future, and whatever happens to Yusol, I'll always love them.
> 
> This is my first attempt at fanfiction so please go easy on me. And thank you Clay for the enouragement! (´∀｀)♡ I borrowed the title from one of my favorite The 1975 songs. I hope you enjoyed it! Find me on twitter @hqmarklee :)


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